


Natural Selection

by thebrightestbird



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 14:16:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4224870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebrightestbird/pseuds/thebrightestbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We have to stop them,” Simmons says.</p>
<p>Fitz abruptly stops drinking from his Grumpy Cat mug. “Stop … them?”</p>
<p>“Mack and Bobbi. We have to stop them from reproducing together.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Natural Selection

Bobbi and Mack take their sparring workouts to the hangar area on Wednesday mornings. _Early_ Wednesday mornings.

Fitz and Simmons also wake up bright and early on Wednesdays (coincidentally, of course), discussing important science stuff with coffee mugs in hand, strolling along the periphery of the hangar. Important science things such as …

“Mack and Bobbi would make the most gorgeous children,” Simmons says.

Fitz gives a “hmph” in response.

“Genetically, a pair who are above average in height for their respective genders are practically guaranteed to produce offspring who are at least as tall as the parents, if not taller.” Simmons takes a sip from her _Keep Calm and Science On_ mug.

“Yes, but height doesn’t equate to beauty,” Fitz counters. “Just because Mack and Bobbi turned into supermodels with the strength and agility of Olympians doesn’t mean their children will inherit those qualities. They could easily become giant, skinny klutzes with bad skin.”

Simmons rolls her eyes. “Along with height, skeletal ratios are generally passed on to children, and you know being raised by those two will mean fitness and nutrition will be ingrained, daily routines.”

As if to illustrate, the sparring match surges in intensity for a minute as Mack ducks to avoid a roundhouse kick from Bobbi. She tries to catch him with her other leg, but Mack catches it and takes her to the ground. Of course, Bobbi then tries to get the man in a scissor hold, but that doesn’t seem to be happening. They break apart and get back up into defensive stances to start up again.

“Okay, so they’ll have gorgeous children. So what?” Fitz asks.

“They might be too gorgeous,” Simmons says, seriously. “Unfairly so.”

Fitz is almost afraid to hear the answer to his next question. “What do you mean?”

“There’s always the attractiveness bias to contend with. If someone who is considered plain says something obviously preposterous, no one will believe him or her. But if someone who is considered attractive says the exact same thing …”

“The attractive person will be believed,” Fitz finishes. “Again, so what?”

“What if Mack and Bobbi’s children decide to use that attractiveness for terrible things? Such as passing tests they didn’t deserve to pass because they charmed the instructors. Or winning an elected office despite not caring about the issues or constituents.”

“It’s not like they’d be the first to do any of that,” Fitz notes. “Why would you think their children would be so awful?”

“I don’t think Mack and Bobbi would purposefully raise such unscrupulous children. Physical traits are possible to genetically predict. Personality traits aren’t. But given the evidence that the two of them will have undeniably physically attractive children, the use of their looks for shady purposes could prove to be too much to resist.”

Fitz patiently waits for Simmons to get to the actual point of this little nature versus nurture discussion of their friends’ potential children.

“We have to stop them,” Simmons says.

Fitz abruptly stops drinking from his Grumpy Cat mug. “Stop … them?”

“Mack and Bobbi. We have to stop them from reproducing together.”

“Are they dating?” he asks. “Is this where this whole discussion is coming from?”

“No, no. Mack and Bobbi? Never.”

“Then why are you worried they’ll have gigantic brutes for children?”

“They’re kind and noble people,” Simmons answers. “It would break their hearts to have brought terrible human beings into the world.”

Fitz is utterly confused. “But like you said, Mack and Bobbi would never have sex. They’re just friends. It shouldn’t be an issue.”

“Oh, please,” Simmons says, looking at him as if he said he still believes in Santa Claus. “Life is unpredictable. They could get really drunk one night and forget themselves. And in our line of work, sex pollen is almost a monthly threat.”

Fitz always forgets about the sex pollen. It seems to conveniently always happen to anyone but him. “Okay, fine. We have to stop them from having highly unlikely sex so they don’t produce hypothetically beautiful but miserable children. What do we do?”

“We seduce them,” Simmons answers, even more seriously.

“Ahhh,” Fitz nods. There’s the real reason for this entirely ridiculous conversation. “You know, Jemma, there are more logical, easier ways of telling me that you’re interested in Bobbi and need help figuring out how to tell her.”

Simmons simply stares at Fitz in response with a perfectly arched eyebrow.

Fitz rolls his eyes. “ _And_ there are more straightforward ways of telling me to get off my arse and ask Mack out.”

Simmons beams a victorious smile at that confession, then turns to look at the objects of their affections. They’re still sparring but look like they’re winding down. “So how do we go about telling them?”

“We probably shouldn’t open with, ‘We don’t want you two to procreate. How about giving gay relationships with us a go?’ ”

Simmons smacks him in the side. “I’m serious, Leo. I’m at a loss.”

Fitz grabs hold of her hand. “How about we just enjoy the rest of their bout and actually approach them for breakfast when they’re done. Just go from there.”

Simmons squeezes his hand and nods.

-|-|-

Bobbi can’t help but end their sparring with at least one back flip for fun.

“You know I can do that too,” Mack says with amusement. “I just know better than to risk breaking my neck.”

“I like to keep you on your toes.”

“It’s not much of a surprise, Barbara, when you do it at the end of every match.”

Bobbi shrugs and tosses Mack a towel. She’s already in their corner with their supplies.

Mack practically drains his water bottle in a few gulps. He huddles close to Bobbi as she carefully drinks from her bottle. “You think we should tell them we can hear their conversations?”

Bobbi keeps her bottle close to her lips. “I can’t believe they still haven’t figured it out,” she whispers. “They’re the scientists. They should know about acoustics.”

“Today’s conversation was the craziest,” Mack says. “For the record, I happen to think we’d have some awesome kids.”

Bobbi smiles in response. “Simmons is right about the genetics of our kids though. The funny thing is, along with physical traits, intelligence is something we also could decently predict. Especially if the two people having children are geniuses like Fitz and Simmons. While genius is often exceptional in families, two genius parents would often produce equally intelligent if not more intelligent children.”

Mack has a funny feeling about where Bobbi’s going with her thoughts. “Don’t tell me …”

“FitzSimmons can’t ever have children. The collective brainpower would be off the charts. We’re talking supervillainy levels of smarts.”

“Why are their children supervillain geniuses?” Mack asks. “They could probably better society with their intelligence.”

Bobbi gives him her “duh” expression. “Of course, they’ll become supervillains. Uncharted IQ levels always lead to world-domination urges. Lex Luthor, the Red Skull, Ozymandias, Doctor Doom, Norman Osborne. It’s Supervillain Psych 101.”

Mack’s skeptical. “You really think FitzSimmons could ever be the parents of little Red Skulls?”

“Do you want to risk it?”

Mack rolls his eyes. “Fine! Then how about you quit stalling? We should go over to them and be the ones who ask them out to breakfast before they get bored watching us and start making babies on the floor of the hangar.”

Bobbi realizes she’s being ridiculous, but she hesitates. “You think we should? We’ve been pretty cautious about their feelings for each other.”

“After today’s conversation, I think it’s safe to say they’ve worked things out. And they definitely like us, Bobbi.”

During their talk, Bobbi and Mack were slightly faking cool-down exercises to give themselves some extra alone time and keep the scientists from wandering off, thinking the workout was completely over. Bobbi risks a peek at the pair, especially Jemma. She’s already completely dressed and ready for her day. Her shoulder-length hair is properly tucked behind her ears. Her blouse is a tasteful flower print. She’s cradling her red mug against her chest while casually running her other hand up and down Fitz’s arm, whispering something in his ear, making him laugh.

She’s lovely.

“Okay, yeah,” Bobbi finally says. “Let’s go get our non-supervillain geniuses.”

Mack smiles and quits stretching. He reaches for both their gym bags but stops suddenly. His smile turns devious. “Wait. There’s one more thing I have to do.”

“You’ve done all of the cool-down moves. Twice. What else is there?”

“It’s something I’ve been meaning to do since those two started coming around to watch us,” he whispers and gives a wink. “Trust me.”

Still feigning obliviousness, Mack turns a little more in the direction of Fitz and Simmons. His gray shirt is thoroughly sweat-soaked and clingy.

It’s going to have to come off.

Mack ever-so-casually reaches behind and pulls it up and off in an exaggerated but smooth motion. He wipes the excess sweat off his torso with the shirt for good measure.

A coffee mug shatters to the floor, accompanied by Fitz exclaiming, “ _Bloody hell!_ ”

Bobbi and Mack look unwaveringly at Fitz and Simmons then. Fitz is torn between looking at the mess of his broken mug on the floor and Mack’s half nakedness. Simmons gives a tiny wave in greeting. “Morning!” she chirps.

Mack smirks, thoroughly pleased with himself. “Okay. Now we can go ask them to breakfast.”

-end-

**Author's Note:**

> I made up the genetics stuff. Total rubbish.


End file.
